Angels and Ashes (Heaven's Rejects MC Book 2) by Avelyn Paige Page A
Authors: Avelyn Paige
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says the wait’s over two hours to get through border patrol. I munch on my snack while my mind floats to my destination and the significance behind Brent choosing this place to hide whatever it was for Raze. Gatito Del Diablo was just a stop on our spring break bar crawl on Avenida revolución in Tijuana. The girlfriends that I made while attending the University of Southern California went on and on about how crazy night life was in Tijuana, and back then, I was just as big of a daredevil as they were. I was just there to have fun, and I had no intention of walking into the seedy corner bar and changing my life forever.
“I’m going to go grab us some more tequila shots, ladies.”
I made my way to the old wooden bar and leaned far over the edge, exposing my ample breasts in an attempt to get the bartender’s attention. What felt like two seconds later, the bartender shoved ten glasses of Patron toward me on a tray. Throwing a couple of twenty-dollar bills down on the bar, I turned and ran smack dab into a drunk guy trying to dance to the music playing in the bar. The tequila glasses clanked, tipped sideways on the tray, and spilled right down my shirt, soaking not only the thin fabric, but my bra as well. The man never uttered an apology as he ran his finger through the spilled tequila and tried to rub his thick calloused fingers across my face.
“What the fuck, dude? You owe me sixty bucks in tequila, shit head,” I screeched at him, throwing down the tray and glasses onto the scuffed wooden floor.
The drunk man laughed at my words and tried to walk away from me. There was no Goddamn way I was going to let that bastard leave without paying for the drinks he just spilled on me. I worked my ass off all semester at a local campus bar to save money for the trip, and I was not about to waste it on some asshole who thought he could get away with spilling my drinks and not pay for them. I stomped off after him as he headed for the restrooms in the back corner of the bar. I grabbed ahold of his arm to stop his progress of running away, but when I yanked back, his right fist came flying toward me. I tried to duck out of the way, but a tattooed hand flew into my view and blocked his strike. A large man stepped between us before he cold-cocked the drunken bastard, sending him collapsing onto the floor. I sidestepped around the brick wall of the man standing in front of me and saw my assailant flat on his ass with his hands covering his blood-stained face. Jesus, this person has a hell of a left hook.
“Is that how your mother taught you to treat a lady?” his gruff voice asked. “I think you owe the lady a round of the bar’s best tequila, don’t you think?”
The man on the floor sputtered out something in a mix of Spanish and broken English as he reached into his pocket and threw a large wad of cash at the tattooed man. His hands grabbed the crinkled bills mid-air before landing a kick to the man’s mid-section just as two bouncers barreled into the area and separated the two men.
“He bothering the lady, Jagger?” one of the bouncers asked.
“Yeah, man. Tried to rough her up. Take that piece of shit outside,” he responded. The two men hauled him up from the ground and made their way toward the front exit. The tattooed man then turned to me and shoved the cash into my hands, which brought me out of the state of shock from what had just transpired.
“You okay? He didn’t get any shots in that I didn’t see, did he?”
My eyes trailed up from the cash in my hand to find the man standing before me—sexy as shit. His chest and arms were huge, covered with tattoos and corded muscle. His chest was broad and stretched the t-shirt under his leather vest tightly. His chiseled jaw was bearded, but it was his icy-blue eyes that took my breath away. Blue eyes had always been my kryptonite, but I had never seen a shade of blue that bright before. Fuck, if he looked at me and told me to strip naked and hula-hoop, I
“I’m going to go grab us some more tequila shots, ladies.”
I made my way to the old wooden bar and leaned far over the edge, exposing my ample breasts in an attempt to get the bartender’s attention. What felt like two seconds later, the bartender shoved ten glasses of Patron toward me on a tray. Throwing a couple of twenty-dollar bills down on the bar, I turned and ran smack dab into a drunk guy trying to dance to the music playing in the bar. The tequila glasses clanked, tipped sideways on the tray, and spilled right down my shirt, soaking not only the thin fabric, but my bra as well. The man never uttered an apology as he ran his finger through the spilled tequila and tried to rub his thick calloused fingers across my face.
“What the fuck, dude? You owe me sixty bucks in tequila, shit head,” I screeched at him, throwing down the tray and glasses onto the scuffed wooden floor.
The drunk man laughed at my words and tried to walk away from me. There was no Goddamn way I was going to let that bastard leave without paying for the drinks he just spilled on me. I worked my ass off all semester at a local campus bar to save money for the trip, and I was not about to waste it on some asshole who thought he could get away with spilling my drinks and not pay for them. I stomped off after him as he headed for the restrooms in the back corner of the bar. I grabbed ahold of his arm to stop his progress of running away, but when I yanked back, his right fist came flying toward me. I tried to duck out of the way, but a tattooed hand flew into my view and blocked his strike. A large man stepped between us before he cold-cocked the drunken bastard, sending him collapsing onto the floor. I sidestepped around the brick wall of the man standing in front of me and saw my assailant flat on his ass with his hands covering his blood-stained face. Jesus, this person has a hell of a left hook.
“Is that how your mother taught you to treat a lady?” his gruff voice asked. “I think you owe the lady a round of the bar’s best tequila, don’t you think?”
The man on the floor sputtered out something in a mix of Spanish and broken English as he reached into his pocket and threw a large wad of cash at the tattooed man. His hands grabbed the crinkled bills mid-air before landing a kick to the man’s mid-section just as two bouncers barreled into the area and separated the two men.
“He bothering the lady, Jagger?” one of the bouncers asked.
“Yeah, man. Tried to rough her up. Take that piece of shit outside,” he responded. The two men hauled him up from the ground and made their way toward the front exit. The tattooed man then turned to me and shoved the cash into my hands, which brought me out of the state of shock from what had just transpired.
“You okay? He didn’t get any shots in that I didn’t see, did he?”
My eyes trailed up from the cash in my hand to find the man standing before me—sexy as shit. His chest and arms were huge, covered with tattoos and corded muscle. His chest was broad and stretched the t-shirt under his leather vest tightly. His chiseled jaw was bearded, but it was his icy-blue eyes that took my breath away. Blue eyes had always been my kryptonite, but I had never seen a shade of blue that bright before. Fuck, if he looked at me and told me to strip naked and hula-hoop, I
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